Malinda Lo

and tearing the article out beneath the table as quietly as possible. She knew she shouldn’t, but she had needed to have the picture in a way she didn’t consciously understand.

She couldn’t put into words why she had gathered these photos together, but she could feel it in her bones: a hot and restless urge to look—and, by looking, to know.

If Lily Hu didn’t do these things, the girl in the mirror surely did.

She lay in her bed for quite some time trying to catch that scent again, as if she might call it into existence out of the sheer force of memory.

and there was such an unexpected feeling of openness between them—a flying kind of feeling, as if they had lifted off from the ground right then and there.

“There’s an ice cream shop in Chinatown, Fong Fong’s. They have ginger ice cream. That’s my favorite.”
“Ginger! How does that taste?”
“It’s delicious. Little bits of candied ginger are mixed into the ice cream.

They hadn’t discussed this strategy, but had fallen into it so naturally that only now, with Shirley pressing her about Will, did Lily notice how strange it was.

She couldn’t put into words why she had gathered these photos together, but she could feel it in her bones: a hot and restless urge to look—and, by looking, to know.

“No,” Lily said quickly. “No, you don’t. I loved hearing about it. You can talk to me about it anytime.”

And yet she couldn’t stop thinking about it.